To Each Their Own
by drpepper2112
Summary: Everyone has interests in something that might not be in your particular taste, but to each his own, right?  Crap Summary, first fanfic, boyXboy, stenny. Uh, over and out..?
1. Ch 1: Cigarettes and Devil

**A/N **This is my first time writing a south park fanfiction, so be warned it isn't as awesome as those cool writer's you read about. Feedback is appreciated...so...u

Oh, annnnd in case you didn't realize, the pairing is Stenny. It's not mature yet, but it maaaaaaaaaaaaay become that way. If I even get that far. .;; Just work with me here.

**To Each Their Own**

I've never realized how calming a cigarette between the lips was until now.

I took a drag and exhaled, a plume of smoke escaping my lips like I was some sort of god creating fog. A funny thing really, considering I could never really be a god. Ha, I was probably about the closest thing to Satan- well, besides his son, that is. Yeah, that's me, Kenny McCormick; womanizing low-life extraordinaire. Not only is that my area of expertise, but if you haven't noticed, I'm pretty good at skipping class and failing to live longer than a day too.

I rested against the cool bricks of the school and shoved my hands in my pockets. Normally, you'd see those Goth fags over here, and occasionally a Craig, but I'm the only one smoking this morning. It's quiet and well I admit I'm a little scared by it, I can't say it isn't nice. Looking up towards the sky, I sighed exhaustively. I just barely made it out of the house this morning without being beamed in the head with a frying pan. It's a usual thing, me being kicked out or threatened. Oh, and dying. I guess I'm not really your 'Average Joe' considering, but I manage. I have girls up the ass, literally. Ha, and an average high school reputation, which by teenage means, equals an 'alright life'.

I took another drag and exhaled softly as I scanned the area. You can never be too careful around here, even though it's South Park. Speaking of which, Park Central High is at least a little better than the elementary school. Although that's not really a good thing for me, per se, but for those who care, it's a great educational surrounding. Plus, I really have to watch out some of those clingy girls. They want me and even though I wouldn't normally pass up a good shagging, I'm not necessarily looking for a long term tie-down. I have to be open, right? Girls aren't my only option and I like to take from both baskets, if you catch my drift. I haven't hooked up with many guys in my life. Well none, to be honest. The farthest I've gone with a guy is a little tongue action and possibly some touchy-feely, but not that I would remember. Those things only happen when you're wasted.

I was interrupted from my thinking session when a lanky figure, clad in dark attire, yawned obnoxiously. I forgot that Damien smoked. He pulled out a cig and perched it on his lips as he snapped a flame from his fingers.

"Need a light?" The Son of Satan smirked. I realized that my stick had been just about out. I should really pay attention to things like that; no need for any accidents, ha-ha.

"Sure, why not? Might as well add emphysema to the list of, 'Ways Kenny Shall Die'." I snorted. Removing the burnt-out cigarette from my mouth, I tossed it to the ground. Yawning, I took out another one from my dwindling pack and snuffed out the discarded butt with my dirty sneaker.

"So, I heard you were thinking, eh?" The little bitch sported a shit-eating grin.

"Oh, that funny to you, asshole?" I laughed, matching his smile.

"Only you could have as stupid of a look as you did while thinking." Damien snickered and puffed on his cig.

"Ah, well that's embarrassing…" I scratched the back of my head and flicked some ash from my smoke. It was a cloudy day today, but otherwise, fine weather. Good thing too, because I left my hoodie in my locker and only had a t-shirt on. Not the best choice of garments for South Park, but like I said, it was good weather today.

Damien inhaled and turned towards me, "Well, I just stopped by to make sure you haven't died yet today. Dad's doing some 'renovations' down there and doesn't want you popping in just yet. So don't die until around two today, okay?"

"Alright, I'll just you know, get right on that." I spat sarcastically. Apparently dying every day isn't good enough, now I have a set time.

"Just try and be careful. I don't want my ass kicked because of you." He glared a bit, but his expression faded along with the rest of him. I guess it was convenient to just dissipate into the earth rather than take a bus. Oh well, to each their own, or something like that.

Using some momentum, I pushed myself from the wall and walked towards the back of the school. Walking in through the front meant security and air call things, as well as, 'a shitload of trouble for Kenny McCormick'. As soon as I reached the door, I checked my phone to make sure it was about passing time for the second class of the day. Smart on my part, might I add. It's a lot easier to hide in a crowd of people than just walk in like you've appeared out of thin air. Time hit eight forty-five and I opened the back door cautiously before stealthily slipping into a crowd of kids near a fountain. Letting out a sigh of relief, I casually strode towards my own locker and as expected, there was Stan, ogling over something Kyle was showing him. That's how it was for 'Super best Friends', I guess.

"'Sup guys." I greeted, opening my locker to grab a book I probably didn't even need, much less use.

"Hey, where were you?" The Jew cocked an eyebrow at me questioningly.

"Kyle, we all know the answer to this, relax. Hey, Kenny." Stan said as he leaned against the locker next to mine. The redhead shook his head and crossed his arms.

"Yeah, well unlike you, Stan, I care." Kyle scoffed playfully. The darker haired boy pushed off from the locker in protest.

"I care too, Kyle. This is routine though, so obviously…" He trailed off knowingly. I guess it was routine. Almost every day I went out to smoke during the first class. I've always hated English anyway. I mean, I already speak the language, so why the hell not skip?

"Yes, your assumptions are correct, _Stanley, _here's your prize." I teased while swirling my finger around in the air like a party favor. Kyle snickered and watched his best friend's irritated face. Stan hated being called by his full name and it was becoming obvious by the sudden red growing on his face. "Ha-ha, I'm sorry. I was just teasing." I laughed.

"Yeah, yeah," Stan sighed, "Well I need to get to Bio, so talk to you guys later." He rounded a corner and left. After a couple seconds or so, Kyle glanced down at his watch before saying his goodbyes and waving off. I huffed and adjusted my book so that it was cradled between my hips and my arm.

Although it sounds weird, seeing Stan angry was kind of cute. I guess I've always found him sort of cute, but then again, who don't I find cute? Ha, well how could he not be cute? Stan has an average build just like any normal high schooler, but he has his quirks. He's a little skinny and pretty tall, although I own him by a couple inches or so. The jock is soft around the hips, yet not as small as Butters or Tweek. Of course, he's stronger and is a bit more toned than most, but that's what football does to you. Being star quarter back of the team last year has earned him a pretty solid spot in the high school hierarchy, so he's pretty well known around here. Plus, his looks get him a bit of passing glances from the ladies. Not that they would chance anything, Wendy has him wrapped around her finger like her little puppy. I guess they're not as bad as it could be, but I am slightly jealous. His hair is always tousled a bit, not quite perfect, but in-between. His eyes are like mine, but a deeper blue, and his face is a bit softer, but it's angling out.

I don't even know why I know all of this, maybe staring at my friends for too long is making me a fag. I must have had that stupid face again though, because Bebe just stopped and stared at me in disbelief.

"Hey babe, you come here often?" I managed to spit out jokingly, "Hey Bebe."

She laughed, "In your dreams, McCormick. What was with the face? Were you thinking?"

"You know, that's actually a funny story, but I have to go." I faked sarcastically. Does everyone just believe that I don't have the ability to think without putting in an extreme amount of effort?

"Whatever Kenny, catch ya later!" Bebe called behind herself as she traipsed away. She was all ass and tits and I would love to put her at the top of my 'to-do' list, but after that dream comment, I'll have to lay off for a bit. Tugging on the belt loops of my jeans, I started towards my next destination of the day; History. I hope there's nothing in there that'll kill me before two.


	2. Ch 2: Hebrew Rage and Demon Girls

**Chapter two:**

SONOFABITCH! How the hell does that fatass get away with beating the shit out of a kid with a textbook? Sitting here in purgatory or whatever the hell people call it because Hell is, 'Out of Order' is bullshit. Damien's going to kill me before sundown, I know that much. I can't say I didn't warn him that it would be difficult to not die though, especially if you're me, who happens to be a magnet for death. Heaving a stressful sigh, I tried to remember what caused me to get a history book to the skull. Apparently making a comment over someone's weight angers them to the point of homicide? Alright, that seems logical. If you're a fucking psychopath, goddamn it! Even though that pretty much fits Cartman's profile. I take in my surroundings, noting the strange shit floating around me. No offense, but if that's what I look like when I die, I might just actually try to keep up my health. I guess the little nasty wisps of god-knows-what are these 'souls' waiting for judgment.

Taking a few more minutes to collect myself and secure my balls, I prepare from what I know is about to hit me. Speak of the dev-

"YOU ASSHOLE! I told you not to die! How hard is that?" The dark boy seethed. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him this riled up since the sixth of June back in two-thousand and six. Ha, just joking, but I guess now's not the time for that.

"You know, I can't just decide not to die, dickwad." I spat as I furrowed my brow. Might as well hold my ground –er, sorry, lack of.

"Well maybe, you should at least use some COMMON SENSE to not put your dumb ass into such situations!" Damien retaliated. Looks like he wasn't planning on backing down anytime soon. I folded my arms over my chest stubbornly.

"It wasn't my fault that Cartman took a liking to beating the common sense out of me with a fucking textbook." At least I wouldn't go down without some sort of fight, if this even counts as fighting back. It sounds more like me pathetically whining like a pussy, but I suppose that would suffice, considering my current situation.

"Oh really, and I suppose that people just beat the crap out of others without, oh I don't know, some redneck retard making a comment to fuel it? Hmm, sounds a bit like it sure as hell was your fault!" The Dark Prince steamed off. "My dad is going to kick my ass to heaven and back. I hope you're happy, McCormick!"

"Oh, quite the contrary, Damien. I'm very saddened by the fact that _you_ are to be the one to get your ass kicked. I am so very sorry." I patronized. Probably not the best idea, but being the jackass that I am, I figured, "why not". Big mistake on my part.

"I'll be sure to inform my father of your attitude towards me. I'm sure he'd be happy to castrate another fallen 'angel'." He turned his nose up and crossed his arms. I stood there flabbergasted for a second. Did I just hear a, 'tattle'?

"Are you…telling on me?" I couldn't keep the amusement from my voice. "What are we, third graders?" By now I couldn't even hold back a giggle. I burst out laughing, rolling around in- well, whatever this was. It seemed he wasn't as serious as he sounded because he also let out a laugh.

"Fuck you, Kenny." He smirked and rubbed his eyes. I was pretty good at lightening the mood, although it almost cost me my manhood.

"Love you too, bro." I replied, smiling. Only a few minutes of awkward silence passed before Damien said, "Time's up" and let me go back.

Dazed and dizzy, I lifted my head from the same spot I was mutilated at. Oh that's just nice; don't bring the dying kid to the nurse. Let's just leave him. Sometimes this school is something else. I got up from my history class seat and grabbed my notebook before checking my phone. It was only about nine thirty. Not cool, I was supposed to meet the guys by Kyle's locker before our next class that we had together. I was sure they'd be worried, and although Cartman's the only one in our group in my history class, the news most likely had already spread. Shit moves like wildfire here, especially when the school is small and your fat friend has a mouth the size of some crack whore's vagina.

Walking around the school, I decided to check Kyle's locker just in case. I mean, it was only about a minute before class started. I rounded the corner next to one of the technology rooms and ran into Wendy. Yeah, what a great fucking day. It's not that I hated her, just that, well- we don't necessarily agree on certain things. I think she knows I have a thing for her little boy toy.

"Why hello there, Kenny." She smiled. That bitch was so fake.

"How's it hangin' Wendy? Your balls, I mean. You _are_ the one who wears the pants in your relationship, no?" I smirked, half-assed. The look on her face said that I hit right home with that one.

"Oh, great to see you too," She regained that smile, "don't choke on my cock while you're sucking up, McCormick." Ouch. That was a good one, but insults are _my_ specialty.

"Well I'll make sure not to, Wends. In fact, better yet, I'll go suck your boyfriend's." I shifted my weight to my left side, winking. It wasn't the best comeback ever, but I felt it was appropriate. She just kind of blinked, un-phased, still with that crooked smile.

"Well maybe after you pull your head out of your ass, he can fuck you silly, too." She winked back and with a flounce of her hair, she was gone. Now _that_ was a good one. I should write that down because that stung. I sighed and stretched, so much for meeting the guys. At least we had class together. Math shouldn't be too bad today, other than the class, the teacher, and—well, everything. I made my way into the room about two seconds after the bell rang. Damn, it couldn't wait two seconds? Being late, especially with this uptight teacher, was considered a 'misdemeanor' by school terms.

"Mr. McCormick, nice of you to finally waltz in." The math teacher welcomed coldly. She was relatively attractive, but her voice was annoying, so I wouldn't even try to make her scream my name. EW, the very thought of her saying anything even close to sexual was gut-wrenching. Wincing, I waved her off and took a seat in the back next to Kyle and Stan. Fatass was next to Butters, whispering about some plot or something that he had planned. I watched as Stan ripped out a sheet of notebook paper and scribbled something down. He then flung it at Kyle who turned around with a sharp glare. And Wendy thinks _I'm_ the one with something up my ass? I chuckled at my own thought. Next thing I knew, there's a paper flying towards my head and an angry teacher on my ass.

"Kenneth! Since you seem to like making a lot of commotion back there, I suppose you'd like to give us the answer?" She seethed through her yellow teeth. Another turn-off. I could hear Stan and Kyle snickering in their seats. What good friends.

"Uh, no ma'am." I politely replied. Apparently, she doesn't take kind to manners because that earned me a nice punishment.

"Detention!" She raised her obnoxious voice. It was cross between a dying moose and nails on a chalkboard. "You should learn to pay attention in class."

Personally, I think that's an overreaction, but what do I know, right? After Miss 'Bitch' turned back to the board, I read the note.

To Ky: Pass this to Kenny, oh and nice notebook, LOL

To Ken: way to be late, dude

Stan, shut up and hey Kenny. :P

Stan's handwriting was pretty bad, but I could read it…if I squinted. Ha, and Kyle's penmanship has always been neat. It's part of being a Jew, I guess. I fished out my own pencil from my back pocket and began to reply.

yeah, I ran into the spawn of the devil on way to class ;) what about this notebook, now?

I put my pencil down and leaned forward to launch the note towards Kyle. We weren't very far from each other, but we wouldn't want ol' 'ants in my pants' math teacher here to see. He discretely opened the note and began to write under his books. I half-watched, half-paid attention as he passed it to Stan. A few minutes later, I was dozing off when a piece of paper hit my desk. If I can doze off within a few minutes, than this class was the epitome of boring. I fiddled around with the crinkled note and scribbled something down.

Who would that be, Kenny? And drop the notebook thing, Stan's just lame ;P

dude I am soooo not lame, you're the one who carries a notebook with a flower on it LOL & Kenny, you ran into Damien?

Ahahaha Kyle, you loser :B well yeah, but I meant your gf

Wadding it up, I threw it at Stan this time, just to see the look on his face. The dark haired cutie opened the note and frowned. That wasn't what I expected, but then again my expectations may be a little high. He turned and gave me an unimpressed look. I shrugged and he mouthed, "She's not that bad." I just scoffed and waited for a return from Kyle. Better yet, I had an idea. The teacher glanced back at us a couple times and continued on with the lesson. This is the one time she might actually come in handy. I glanced back and forth between my sharpened pencil and Stan while he was writing. Just as the teacher looked away, I aimed and threw it at him like a dart.

"OWW! Dammit, Kenny!" He cursed holding his arm. Bullseye! I cupped a hand over my mouth and laughed as the teacher whipped around.

"Stanley! Detention!" She sentenced him sharply. There was a 'no screaming in pain because your friend threw a sharpened pencil at you' policy in here.

The boy groaned miserably. My plan worked pretty well, actually. If I had to go down, I might as well have someone to enjoy it with. After a few passing glares and a paper airplane to the face later, I opened the note to see what my detention buddy wrote.

dude, dont even go there. Wendy's a good gf.

oh, and Kyle has a flower notebook just thought i'd remind you

oh and fuck you for giving me detention asshole!

I laughed out loud for a second at the flower comment. Of course he would have something like that on his notebook. The teacher snapped a look at me and her face threatened another detention, but I regained my composure well enough to refrain from another punishment. Scribbling my own reply onto the rest of the available white space of the notebook paper, I wrote:

LOL. alright, how many shrooms you on boy?

O Kyle, I never knew you were like that. guess it's a Jew thing to have flowers on their books cuz Jews care about nature…to use as space for development of industrial corporations ;)

I guess that kind of sounded like Cartman, but when you hang around the guy for so many years; he starts to rub off on you. Glancing around the classroom, I tossed the note to Kyle first. Watching as he opened it, I leaned forward in my chair a bit to get a better view of his face. The redhead took one skim of the note before grunting angrily in my general direction. Oh, the glorious feeling of Hebrew Rage directed towards you. Ragging on the Jewish was a daily thing for most of us, but spiting Kyle was just a plus. Naturally, the ginger's sudden change in mood peeked Stan's interest, and he wanted the note. Urging Kyle to pass him it while the teacher wasn't looking was a failed plan. Jewboy was about to erase it when he realized that I used pen after launching my pencil at his Super Best Friend. He turned towards me and mouthed the words, ".You", and I winked. Then he scribbled something down, crumpled up the note begrudgingly, and threw it at Stan; whose pathetic attempt to coax it from his redhead was somewhat adorable.

One look at the note and the boy in the usual red poof ball hat threw his head into his arms on the desk. I couldn't tell whether he was laughing, crying…or giving child birth, but it looked like all three and Kyle didn't seem too happy about it. The ginger scoffed and resumed his attention towards the board while I watched his best friend. Without lifting his head, the dark haired teen held up the note from where he was sitting and I didn't even have to squint to notice the giant, 'FUCK YOU' scrawled across the writings on the page. It made me laugh too, and I came to the realization that maybe I liked getting punished. I guess I'm a bit of a masochist.


End file.
